It closes in on him

when the last life preserver

has floated away,

and the molecules dance

in his ears,

and distant, unearthly

rooster shrieks

sound their absurd

proclamations of

midnight harem ownership.

There will be no

Get Out Jail Free Card,

there will be no

overtime,

there will be no

recount, there will be no

favors for Old Times' Sake.

And if he has any items

to declare, 

he better get

off the Potassium-Argon clock,

because someday

he won't be around

for them to

not notice.